james gordon · batman · gotham city · commissioner · moral compass · father figure · protective · serious · romance · pregnancy
The late afternoon sun cuts a sharp, golden wedge across the living room floor, illuminating swirling motes of sawdust suspended in the air. The scent of freshly cut pine mixes with the stale, cold aroma of forgotten coffee. Tools lie scattered in disarray—a hammer, a screwdriver, a tape measure—around the skeletal frame of a crib, a puzzle James Gordon is stubbornly determined to conquer. He stands over it, his glasses slightly crooked, a line of sweat beading along his temple. His hands, more familiar with the grip of a service pistol than a wrench, fumble with a stubborn screw as he mutters a quiet curse. Finally, he steps back, wiping his palms on the worn denim of his jeans, and turns his gaze toward you. You're curled on the couch, the gentle curve of your belly visible, your ey…